


Stir

by DankTempsey



Category: Call of Duty, nazi zombies
Genre: And now I'm posting it, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Fluff without Plot, Gr8 4 me, I kinda whipped it up one day at 3 am, Idk What the hell this is, M/M, edited it, idk?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 15:44:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4397717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DankTempsey/pseuds/DankTempsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Are you awake?"<br/>"I'm afraid I am."</p><p>He didn't want to know why. His questions and small talk would be shut down or disparaged. Besides, who wouldn't expect a German doctor who just killed himself from the future to be awake. It was a big day. For both of them, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stir

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, I haven't written nor posted in a while. Here is some fluff/soft smut/???
> 
> Enjoy ( ͡° )ਊ ͡°)
> 
> *Sry for the double spacing and AO3 is being gross and not letting me italicize
> 
> Please leave reviews or kudos! Thank you!
> 
> *THIS IS ORIGINS ZOMBIES. I WILL BE WRITING ORIGINS ZOMBIES ONLY NOW.

☆Stir☆

 

 

"Are you awake?"

"I'm afraid I am."

 

He didn't want to know why. His questions and small talk would be shut down or disparaged. Besides, who wouldn't expect a German doctor who just killed himself from the future to be awake. It was a big day. For both of them, too.

 

Tank cruised his fingers against the thick contours of his lover's thighs, digits brushing over dark hairs and aged trauma. He could feel when he'd touch a certain region of the muscle that it would tense from interference. Dempsey smirked, but that was after Richtofen broke an agitated groan throughout his lips. 

 

"You're usually up at this time anyways, aren't you?" Asked Dempsey, throwing his leg over the pair of other vertical ones. This was responded to with Richtofen rubbing his hand against Tank's thigh and beaming like an idiot. "I am... Though, tonight is different. I couldn't sleep at all."

 

Taking advantage of the position, the marine straddled Richtofen. A dorky smirk coated his expression, as if that were some highly skilled technique. The German couldn't help but to laugh at the unusual smile.

 

"It's easy, doc. Here--" The male leaned down to Edward's face, pressing his lips lightly against each eyelid with soft precision. Afterward, the American grazed a few fingers against the man's chest whilst humming an (out of tune) lullaby. Richtofen chuckled. Witnessing the laudable champion so caring and sweet tweaked his attention, in which he craved for more. 

 

"And... How is that supposedly going to make me fall asleep?" Questioned Edward; one hand clutched onto his partner's hips and the other upon his own forehead. Now he was plastered with a snarky grin, which Dempsey just adored. It was the sleepy kind, too. At least the marine was completing half of his volition.

 

"You act all silly when you're tired, Eddie. I know that smile when I see it."

"I haven't done a thing, American. Not just yet."

 

Dempsey rolled his eyes, his arms were tucked in his pits. "I wished you'd try something. I always initiate it," the marine huffed and scooted further down Edward's legs. "That's not true. I have at least once before."

 

"I was hung and so were you,"

"Oh yes! 'The strawberry' I called you. Because your nose gets very vibrant and rouge when you're drunk." 

 

The couple laughed on and on. Snide remarks and such were made, small talk had perished, then it had all went silent. Dempsey looked down at Edward, green eyes hooded and fazed with enervated emotion. He wouldn't give in to his sleep just yet, though. It usually took a few more minutes. This wasn't the first time Edward has done this. And even as rare as this happens, Dempsey was always glad to help the doctor get to sleep. Especially after today. He was barely even able to maintain this hoax of a pretense. Tank knew how anxious and scared Richtofen was and on top of that--

 

"I don't think I could have fallen in love with someone better than you."

 

It must've been a few minutes since Edward had said that. And the silence wasn't even awkward, but all so relieving. Richtofen knew this too--a soft hand pressed to the German's face, feeling around the hollow skin. Tank lifted it as well, before planting a meaningful one on him. Hands coursed over the sides of Richtofen's face and the wide hips of his lover. 

 

He hated how easy he (himself) surrendered. It was amazing, too. Not only how he was a victim of the consensual loving, but also that Tank knew how to make him become this easy to assume control over. But oh God, did Edward love it.

 

He kisses onto the marine's neck. His lips burrowed deep within the crook, as Tank had clasped a hand to the back of Edward's head and torso. Another group of smothered moans were clandestine from the air. A thick, hot atmosphere enveloped the men as Dempsey whined with appeasement. He takes Richtofen by the shirt and grumbles a few words.

 

"You shouldn't have done that," complained Tank, a deep tone layering his groggy voice. Richtofen breaches his fingers throughout the tank top worn by his favorite ally. He  bought caprice romance for his mien, Dempsey internally relished in the satisfaction of watching the man beneath him raise his hips. "And why's that, American?" Asked Edward. It wasn't easy remaining in this misery anymore, nor was it worth it. Dempsey had already been grinding himself down onto the man's groin. Warmth closed in too; Richtofen seated upward, lips rimmed lips and tickled when they would waver.

 

"Because now I'm going to want you even more."

 

He's gotten better at it--at all of this. Ever since the Excavation Site, where their relationship had officially developed. Their kisses used to mean nothing, and just be petty and soft. But Richtofen had now loved this man. The kisses something. Romance, sex, passion. Desire and fluff all at once. Edward pushed his tongue between Dempsey's lips. Saliva dribbled down their mouths, lips rebound off each other, broken gasps were shared and so were craving, wanton touches.

 

Richtofen squeezed Dempsey's plump, burly thighs, his lips weren't put to rest either; he made sure to leave yearning sweet kisses everywhere and even some purpling love marks. The marine was taken back, yet surely embraced this. 

 

His rejoinder had become dull, so everytime he tried to speak it'd wind up being some choppy groan.

 

"Oh, Eddie..."

 

The doctor chuckled softly, a meaningful tone picking against his usual voice. He enshrouded his lips within the crook of Tank's neck, making sure his laughter was to remain a secret. Nevertheless did the devil dog hear it, peeling away from the German with a sheepish look on his face.

 

"Oh American," Mumbled Edward, "hearing you moan my sobriquet so salaciously is not only exciting, but adorable." He ran his thumb against Dempsey's chin, humming a chuckle. The American looked abroad. His cheeks were tainted with red; he exhaled softly.

 

"Eddie--err, Edward. I don't think that head of yours is screwed on right. Me? Adorable?" Tank stifled a laugh, "You've got the wrong guy."

 

"Perhaps that is what you think. But I see potential, mercy, solicitude. When I say adorable, I don't mean your looks. But your personality. I don't care what you look like, I only desire to be in love with your character."

"Bullshit."

"Excuse me?"

 

Tank rolled his eyes, shrugging the hand away from his jaw as well. "Don't take it personally, but I don't think it's all about who I am inside. Even if you're lenient to love 'who they are' rather than 'what they look like,' that's not the whole story. You just care more about persona than charms. It doesn't mean you don't find me attractive, right? Say, I don't think you'd bed someone ugly?"

 

"I suppose not..."

 

"Exactly. You care about appearance; you don't have to give me all that lovey-dovey crap about 'it's only what's on the inside that matters.' Besides, I know you find me irresistibly handsome."

 

Richtofen breathed a snicker as Tank placed bountiful kisses upon his face. It didn't take long until he was forced to lay back and enjoy every little touch and buss the marine gave. Dempsey toppled over the other, his lips traveling to every exposed patch of skin. Sometimes the kisses would be light, other times they were wet and coveting. The American then made his way back to Richtofen's face, dappling smooches everywhere before hovering his lips just above Edward's. 

 

The air was once hot and tense again. The men stared at each other, their chests heave as they were at a loss of breath and words. Dempsey relinquished his grip on his partner's wrists, now sliding them on the messy bed spread--opening his palms to remain stable and above Richtofen. 

 

Not a single word could describe what this felt like. It was something like looking into each other's eyes for the first time, being comforted by only reassurance of a simple glare. Butterflies gathered in the soldier's stomach, his eyes grew wide and that red muscle in the middle of his chest was thudding and begging to break through the confinement. 

 

Richtofen beamed when the same feeling was shared. But it felt stronger; looking into Tank's eyes was impossible, but something definitely kept him there. The man's eyes stay glued to the beautiful blue one's. Small, misplaced freckles coated around the man's eyelids and pressed his cheeks. A fine, cut jaw captivates the low end of his face. Oh, he was right about the whole appearance tripe. Tank was irresistible.

 

There was no point in concealing this longing need anymore either. Dempsey thrusts his lips downward; they collide with Edward's just as he moans and engages in a breathtaking French. Now Edward had the courage to move; his hands cling to Tank's face, directing to kiss here and there. Sometimes he'd be so lucky that the American would do it by himself--he aimed for the neck area, knowing that was the spot that made Richtofen the weakest. 

 

The doctor's groan of satisfaction was curtailed as Dempsey pressed and nuzzled that area so sweetly. Richtofen bit his lip, exposing his neck further, to which the marine knew exactly what do with.

 

There wasn't much more besides that for the past minutes. Small talk shuffled into the air, giggles, and then more lip lock. As it ended though, the men had settled down and rested upon each other; the two were lain sideways, holding each other close, eyes locked and legs twisted together like old vines on a house's chimney. 

 

Dempsey had just finished a few more extra pecks on Edward's eyelids, he smiled. "Go to sleep, Eddie..." 

 

"I'm sure I can now. Oh... And Dempsey?"

"Yes, Richtofen?"

"I think I love you."

 

Those words made him feel like he was drenched in pain. The need for Dempsey to say it back made the American choke up. He wasn't good with saying it anyways, why worry about something you couldn't even say or hardly mean? The man brushed his thumb against Edward's arm and gave a half-hearted smile. 

 

"Goodnight, Richtofen. See you in the morning."

 

-


End file.
